


Tea and Ice Cream

by FridaysAt9



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc (X-Files), Episode: s04e22 Elegy, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s04e22 Elegy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridaysAt9/pseuds/FridaysAt9
Summary: All she wants to do is go to bed, but when Scully gets home from the hospital, Mulder is waiting with treats and comfort. Set immediately following Elegy.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 17
Kudos: 70
Collections: X-Files Dialogue Fanfic Exchange (2021)





	Tea and Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greekowl87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/gifts).



> For the X-Files Dialogue Fanfic Exchange:
> 
> Hi Kelly! Your prompt "Why? Why are you doing this?" could have gone in so many directions, at first I didn't know where to start, and how fun is that?! I couldn't tell you why this idea popped into my head, other than the fact that I love Elegy, but since you said anything goes, I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the prompt!
> 
> Thanks to Kit, Cassi, and Annie for reading this over for me when I wasn't sure if it was working.

With nothing left to do after seeing the ghost of a dead man in the back seat of her car, she drove home. Scully didn’t want to admit to herself that she had seen a post-mortem Harold as much as she still didn’t want to believe that she had also seen a young, and very dead, woman bleeding from the neck standing in a restroom. 

She had told Mulder what she’d seen, but like so many other times when she had looked in the face of the paranormal, she was unable to take the leap into the belief that Mulder possessed so freely. 

As she drove home, she wrestled with her frayed emotions, trying to find a place between trusting what she saw, and rationalizing her experience within ever present stress and fear of living with cancer. Scully slowed to a stop and stared out her windshield at the red light in front of her. If Mulder’s theory was correct, her own proximity to death allowed her to see those who had just passed. Her imminent death, the truth that she wouldn’t talk about with her partner, and wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on, had been thrust in her face during this case, leaving her feeling shaken and raw. 

The driver behind her honked the horn a few times, and she took her foot off the brake, turning onto her street. She wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and sleep for a week, but as she pulled in front of her building, she realized her night wasn’t going to follow that plan. 

With a sigh, Scully got out of her car, walked over to the familiar sedan that was parked a few spots down, and used her knuckle to rap on the slightly open window. Mulder turned to look at her through the car and smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Scully asked, noticing the slight annoyance in her voice that she hadn’t intended on letting out. 

“I stopped and got you some tea,” Mulder told her casually, as if it were something he did on a regular basis. “And ice cream.”

His face was calm and didn’t give her any indication of what he was feeling. At the hospital, she had been able to see his annoyance at her lack of belief, and his concern for her health, but now, his thoughts were under wraps. He was watching her with his bright hazel eyes, waiting for her reaction without giving any clues to his true motivations for this visit. 

Scully huffed out another sigh. “Mulder, I left the hospital before you. How fast were you driving?”

“I wasn’t going to get a ticket,” he said with a crooked smile. “Official FBI business.”

“Official FBI business?”

“Like I said, I had to bring you tea,” he said, nodding his head towards the bag sitting on the passenger seat. “And ice cream.” 

Scully closed her eyes, let her head hang forward, chin to chest, and took a few cleansing breaths. She was tired and didn’t want to talk more about the conversation they had shared at the hospital, even though she knew that Mulder was aware she hadn’t told him the whole truth about her condition. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. But at the same time, a small part of her liked the idea of someone wanting to take care of her. It was that tiny piece of herself that asked him if he wanted to come up. He of course, quickly agreed. 

Mulder silently followed her upstairs to her apartment, bag in hand. He walked a few steps behind her, and waited patiently while she unlocked the door and let them in. 

She didn’t know what to do with him in her space, feeling the way she did, but Mulder walked through her apartment with the casual comfort of someone who spent a decent amount of time there, which was partially true. Mulder had turned up at her door from time to time to discuss a case, or to check in on her during the several times she had been off work recovering from attacks and abductions, but tonight’s visit felt more personal in nature. It left her feeling even more keyed up and on edge than she had already been. 

Scully stood awkwardly, halfway between her living room and bedroom while Mulder placed a carton of ice cream in her freezer. A box of vanilla honey herbal tea sat on the counter. 

“So…” she said, having no idea how to move forward. 

“You look exhausted, Scully,” Mulder said, walking towards her. 

“I am, Mulder,” she said, taking a step back, and turning to walk towards the front door, to hopefully encourage him to leave. She felt anger starting to bubble up as she wondered if Mulder’s true intentions for being there were to get her to open up and talk to him, something she had no interest in doing. “I just want to take a bath, and go to sleep.”

“Why don’t you let me help you?” Mulder asked. 

“Mulder,” she said, feeling exasperated and suddenly desperate to get him out of her apartment. “Go home. I’m fine.”

He stood stock still near her couch, making no forward motion towards the door that Scully had opened. 

“Really. I can take a bath by myself,” she tried again, her tone firm on the surface, but she could hear the small shake in her voice that betrayed her. Her annoyance and frustration mixed with the bone-deep exhaustion she felt at the end of most days made her feel on the verge of tears. She fought to keep them inside. 

Mulder started walking towards the door, but the intensity in his eyes made her fairly confident he wasn’t going to leave. When he stopped, he was close enough for Scully to smell his cologne. She felt her pulse start to race, and hoped that the mix of emotions she was experiencing wasn’t evident to him. She felt like she was trapped on a roller coaster, angry one moment, sad and scared the next, then suddenly aroused by the partner and friend who shouldn’t be making her feel that way.

It was just Mulder. He was looking at her with the same face she saw every day in the office. He stared into her eyes with the same passion he expressed when he was trying to convince her that Bigfoot was real. He was no closer to her than any of the times they rode in an elevator together, or quietly discussed a suspect’s motivations. 

And yet she felt nervous. 

Mulder placed his hand soothingly on her shoulder. “I know you can run a bath on your own,” he said, still standing close, looking down at her. 

She ran her tongue across her lip and waited, thinking that he had more to say, but he stayed quiet, his hand still on her shoulder. She knew that she had lost. She wasn’t going to be able to kick him out, but if she was honest with herself, she wouldn’t mind having a brief break from her loneliness. 

Scully closed her eyes for a moment, and pushed the door shut. When she opened them, Mulder was smiling down at her. 

“Why don’t you go lay down,” he said, his voice low and quiet since he was still standing so close, “and I’ll start your bath.”

Scully offered him a tight lipped smile and nodded her head before walking towards her bedroom. She felt Mulder behind her, walking to the bathroom, and heard him turn on the tub. She didn’t like the intimacy of any of this. She knew he was trying to help, and hell, she was dying of cancer, but she couldn’t help feeling like he was crossing a line. For them, anyway. 

It had been a very long time since someone ran her a bath, and that had been in a completely different situation, with a past lover who had joined her in the tub. 

She leaned up against the side of her bed, anxious and unable to relax, before deciding to just check on Mulder. 

She found him standing in the bathroom, reading the backs of two bottles of bubble bath. He sensed her presence and turned around. 

“I wouldn’t be able to pronounce half of the ingredients in these things, so how can I decide which one to use?” he asked her, looking perplexed. “And what the hell is joe-joe-bah oil?”

Scully smiled. “It’s pronounced ho-hoba, and it comes from a shrub, I think. It’s supposed to be good for dry skin,” she said, as he continued to read the bottles with a frown. “Use the vanilla one. It makes more bubbles.”

Mulder nodded his head, opened the bottle, and poured a steady stream under the running water. The room filled with the heady scent of vanilla as the tub began to froth. 

“Mulder, why—” she said, unsure what she wanted to ask, but also knowing exactly what she needed to know. “Why are you doing this? Because if you are trying to get me to talk about my cancer, about what the doctors have told me, I am not in the mood. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine. I’m alive, and I’m still able to work. That’s all that matters.”

Mulder turned off the water and turned to look at her. 

“Scully, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to share,” he said, his expression soft and caring. 

She looked at him incredulously. He held his hands up in front of him as if in surrender, and let out a small laugh. 

“I mean it,” he said, keeping his smile even while looking at her skeptical, near scowl. “I know you, Scully. If you want to tell me anything, you will do it on your own terms. When you’re ready. But in the meantime, I am going to assume you aren’t feeling your best, regardless of what you say, and I want to make things easier for you if I can. Not harder.”

Scully covered her eyes with her hand, gently squeezing her temples with her thumb and index finger. She trusted this man more than any other person, and if he said he wasn’t going to try to convince her to talk, she believed him. 

“Okay.”

Mulder smiled. “Great,” he said with a look that on any other person would be unremarkable, but on him, showed a boy-like excitement. “You get in and I’ll get you something. What do you prefer, a cup of tea or a bowl of ice cream?”

Scully looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, causing him to laugh. 

“Ice cream it is. I’ll be right back.”

As she undressed and stepped into the hot water, Scully felt her stress drain out of her. She leaned back, making sure to arrange the bubbles in the tub for modesty’s sake, and closed her eyes. 

They would be okay. She wasn’t sure whether she would make it through this time, but Mulder would, and he would go on without her if need be. She still wasn’t ready to talk to him about how bad her cancer really was, but she was ready to let him in a little bit more. 

She heard Mulder’s footsteps on the tiled floor and opened her eyes with a smile. 

“Where do you want it?” he asked, holding out a bowl of ice cream with at least three times the amount she would usually serve herself. She held out her hand. 

He handed her the bowl, and removed a spoon from his back pocket, earning himself a laugh. 

“Thank you, Mulder.”

“You’re welcome Scully,” he said, sticking the spoon into the ice cream. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Let you relax.”

Scully’s brows pulled together in a frown. After so much insisting that he help her get settled, she hadn’t expected him to leave so quickly. 

She had so badly wanted him out of her space, but suddenly, leaving was the last thing she wanted him to do. 

“Mulder,” she said, looking deep in his eyes. “Stay.”


End file.
